New Divide
by Mia lovely
Summary: How far are some gods willing to make sure their secrets stay hidden? This is an AU prequal for Lightning Theif. All canon couples and Luke/OC. Movie based. but with book elements. Later chapters will invovle Percy and Annabeth.
1. The Prophecy

**N**ew Divide

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Summary: Based on the movie. This is sort of a prequel story; at least it is for the first few chapters it is. AU

Genre: Drama/Adventure

Rated: T for teens

Pairings: All canon couples

Warning: OC(s) take part in this story, mention of rape, gore, death and violence. Also, I'm new to PJO and I'm just now starting to familiarize myself with these characters. I hope I do them justice. The first few chapters might suck, but that's because I'm getting a feel for these characters, and I'm also trying to figure out how this story is going to play out.

AN: Please don't forget to review! Reviews actually motivate me to write faster and update sooner.

The Prophecy

_The end of this system of things draws near_

_Through the hidden seed of the sun_

_Eternal darkness comes_

_The fate of all _

_Rests in the hands of two,_

_A fallen hero and he whom is most beloved by the sea_

Dark pensive eyes peered down at the rotting, mummified remains of the Oracle of Delphi, piercing her with his menacing gaze. Zeus sat on his lavished celestial throne. He was the very picture of superiority and royalty; his regal and aw-inspiring presence exuded power and commanded respect.

Poseidon paced the extravagant golden floor of his brother's council room, his face marred by concern.

Hera blinked, seemingly unmoved by the matter at hand.

Apollo seemed mildly distracted for a moment. He absolutely, positively did not want to be here having this discussion. Nevertheless, he remained seated. He knew very well that at times like these, it was just best if he stayed seated and kept his mouth shut. He didn't need nor want to be at the receiving end of his father's wrath.

"What do you suggest we do, father? I propose we find this hidden child and have it killed." Ares posed, "There is no use in prolonging the inevitable." Proudly standing by his father's side, Ares awaited the go-ahead from Zeus. He was ready to carry out what ever orders his father commanded of him.

Apollo flinched at Ares' words, but masked his disapproval for his half-brother's idea behind a wall of indifference. His sapphire-blue eyes stared blankly in front of him as the rest of the gods debated on what would be the best course of action to take in this current dilemma.

Athena's stormy gray eyes flashed viciously, "It's not that simple, dear brother. We can not send for the death of innocent people with out first understanding the full meaning behind this prophecy." She countered logically. Her cool, all too knowing gaze landed on Apollo before addressing their devout king. "I suggest we wait. We can not make such rash decisions solely based on fear."

Ares' stony face darkened at Athena's last comment, "I never said I had anything to fear, _dear sister._" The last bit was spat out with such malice, that it made the ever glowing Aphrodite shift uncomfortably in her seat.

The tension in the air was building, and so thick it was nearly blinding.

Athena sighed and shook her head disbelieving. "You didn't have to. It was implied."

Hermes merely sighed at this interaction and slumped back into his seat. Rolling his neck slowly, until he felt a satisfying crack in the back of his neck. He honestly had no idea what to make of the cryptic foresight. He really wished these damn oracles just learn how to say what they mean, instead of hacking up riddles that ultimately help no one. Most of the time these _'prophecies'_ just ended up infuriating them more then the actual problem at hand.

This could have all been avoided had the oracle known how to speak with out sounding like poorly written poetry. Sinking deeper into his seat, Hermes groaned, he doubts any of this had anything to do with him anyway. Rolling his eyes at a red faced Ares, Hermes threw his head back into his chair and prayed that they were able to just pick a champion and call it a day. He would rather be watching the game right about now.

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Please don't forget to review,

Thank you.


	2. Mad World

**N**ew Divide

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Summary: Based on the movie. This is sort of a prequel story; at least it is for the first few chapters it is. AU

Genre: Drama/Adventure

Rated: T for teens

Pairings: All canon couples

Warning: OC(s) take part in this story, mention of rape, gore, death and violence. Also, I'm new to PJO and I'm just now starting to familiarize myself with these characters. I hope I do them justice. The first few chapters might suck, but that's because I'm getting a feel for these characters, and I'm also trying to figure out how this story is going to play out.

AN: Please don't forget to review! Reviews actually motivate me to write faster and update sooner.

Mad World

Cynthia Berwyn lets out a piercing blood curdling scream and bolts upright in bed, her tight wheezing lungs hungrily swallows deep mouthfuls of air; while a wild look of intense unadulterated fear clouds her eyes.

"Oh my god," she sighs, her heart still pounding madly against her chest as she racks a trembling hand through her long matted locks.

_Blood, there was so much blood, everywhere... _

Placing a still trembling hand over her stomach, Cynthia groaned. This was the fourth time this week that blood and darkness plagued her dreams. Usually, this kind of stuff doesn't even faze her. She had been suffering from night terrors for as long as she could remember. And she was use to having bizarre, vivid dreams that never made any sense to her or anybody else for that matter. However this dream, this dream was different. This dream was…she couldn't even begin to describe it. It was just so unlike anything she had ever seen or dreamed of before.

Tossing the tangled sheets off her body and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Cynthia glanced at the alarm clock on her night stand. It was 4: 30 in the morning.

"Great, just great," she grumbles, rolling her tired eyes in annoyance.

Getting up from bed and walking into her kitchen, which also doubled as a living room; she serves herself a glass of water and then sat down on one of the three cheap counter stools she bought in IKEA for twenty bucks each. Resting a gentle hand on her stomach, she glanced around the bare studio apartment. She wasn't even sure if this tiny little space could even qualify as an apartment. It was more like a glorified dorm room with a bathroom attached to it.

Sometimes she'd pretend she lived in a top of the line luxury condo overlooking the metropolitan Seattle skyline. Instead of this hole-in-the-wall studio apartment, located over an old grimy Chinese take-out place in one of the crappiest neighborhoods in south Seattle. Though it wasn't like she was complaining, this was the best she could do. After all she wasn't Oprah Winfrey. And there was no was in hell that she could ever afford living in a fancy condo. Her crummy minimum wage salary barely pays for this place, let alone a condo downtown. Besides, this was the only place that didn't require a credit history report or any previous landlord references.

Her landlord Carl was a burly, middle aged man who was decent enough to rent this place out to her for a reasonable amount. And he was willing to over look the fact that she was still a minor, and not yet eighteen.

"_Look kid, I really don't care about who you're running away from, or why you feel the need to do so. Just as long as you can pay rent on the first of every month and don't cause me any trouble, then we're good. This is a business, and money is money, I don't care where it comes from."_ Carl said to her the day she showed up in his rundown apartment build, waving a wad of cash in his scruffy round face.

Idly rubbing small soothing circles over her abdomen, Cynthia stood and placed her now empty glass in the sink. While she was rinsing her glass clean, something silver and shiny caught her eye. Puckering her neat eyebrows in confusion, Cynthia turned the running water off and made her way over to the nightstand by her bed.

There, sitting next to her alarm clock, as if it had always been there sat a delicate sterling silver necklaces with an elegant pendant in the shape of a framed raven perched on a branch.

"Where did you come from?" Cynthia mused, taking the mysterious item in her hand in confusion. She wandered over to the gold-plated (fake gold obviously) sun-shaped mirror mounted on her wall and held the necklace against her long, slender neck.

As soon as the cold metal touched her warm skin, it was like being hit by an on coming bus. Striking her fast and hard, came the all too familiar flash of blinding white light, and then the sudden sharp images bombarded her senses. The smell of Jasmine filled her lungs, followed by the image of elegant white hands grasping onto a solid gold goblet filled with rich red wine. Cynthia squeezed her eyes shut at the overwhelming sting of betrayal and fear coming over her in waves. Her throat closed up and her chest felt impossibly tight. Gasping for air she felt herself struggling against the burning ache in her chest as she saw someone running through a dense forest in panic. The last thing she saw right before everything went black were a pair stunningly amazing sapphire blue eyes staring back at her.

Pulling herself away from the vision, Cynthia gasped and tore the necklace off her neck and setting it down on a nearby table. Backing away from the shimmering jewelry slowly, Cynthia shook her sandy-blond head in confusion.

This wasn't the first time she had ever had a vision, in fact she had been having visions ever since she was a little girl. However this vision felt way too real for her comfort. It was as if it were actually happening to her. This struck her as odd, because she was usually good with not letting these 'visions' affected her so much. She had had some pretty wild visions in the past, some so bad that her parents were forced to believe that she had suffered from epilepsy. They had taken her to see a specialist in Los Angels and everything. Though he had only confirmed what she already knew in her heart to be true. She was not epileptic, in fact, she was perfectly healthy, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with her head.

She remembers feeling disappointed at hearing this news. Sure normally people would have rejoiced at learning that they were fine and healthy. However, she had hoped that the doctor had found something wrong with her. It didn't even have to be epilepsy; she would have been fine if it had been any other neurological disorder, just as long as it was something that could explain why she felt like such a colossal freak all the time. At least if the doctor had diagnosed with some kind of neurological disorder then she'd know that what ever was wrong with her wasn't all in her head. She could rest easy knowing that there was a logical explanation for these things that kept happening to her. If he had told her that she had some kind of illness then that would mean that she wouldn't have to feel like such an alien anymore, because she wasn't one, and becuase she wasn't alone. But of course he had cleared her of any illnesses, which only alienated her even more and solidify her prier theories of her being a freak of nature.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Cynthia rubbed her aching temples and closed her eyes. This whole being "special" thing was getting real old.

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